


Apple Crumble

by Quinn_is_Here



Category: Rune Factory (Video Game), Rune Factory 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery AU, F/F, Slow Burn, first multichapter!!, suggestive content later on, there are more characters but I’m tagging these five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinn_is_Here/pseuds/Quinn_is_Here
Summary: Dolce wants to keep to herself. She’s used to it. But one sleepy girl in the college town of Selphia might change her mind.
Relationships: Clorica/Dolce (Rune Factory)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to SpinachArtichokeDitz Klefiki/Kiwi, and my sister for beta-reading! Couldn’t have done it without you!

Dolce tends to notice things throughout her day: small details, things that seem unimportant to everyone else. Little quirks of typical customers of The Sunbeam, like her friend, Amber, who taps her feet at the table when waiting for her honey tea and sugar cookie, or her fellow employees, like Margaret, who hums specific tunes when doing different tasks.

Dolce also notices changes in orders, be it slight or not. Preferences change, and cravings come and go, just like customers.

One constant that she’s noticed, however, is that every Tuesday and Thursday, at around 11:00 AM, a girl with purple braids and sleepy eyes walks in. She orders a slice of apple pie, a cup of green tea, and sits at the same table.

She always seems to doze off when sitting there, doing her work in bursts, seemingly trying to use her energy while she has it. This routine continues on for around two hours, with only one slice of pie and—on average—two cups of tea.

Dolce has never taken her order herself, since she's usually busy baking and such, but she somehow knows it by heart. Her tips and signature are written in cursive, and according to Margaret—or Meg, as she insists—it’s always been like that.

“She has the prettiest handwriting for someone so sleepy!” she had said once. “I don’t understand it, but I’d pay her to write my essays if she would!”

The dwarf had laughed at that, albeit a little, and had continued with work as usual. Dolce wasn’t one to really chat-- she was far more focused on her work-- but she always tried to take note of what was said.

While she didn’t talk much, she noticed that another coworker of theirs talked much less—Dylas, who despite his hatred for sugar and sweets, worked in a bakery. He seemed close with Meg, much like a sibling, but he only ever really engaged in conversation when he didn’t have to start it.

He had a pattern, too, decorating sets of treats in a certain order. Dylas was consistent. She didn’t know much else about him besides his seemingly short temper towards a certain customer that came in for a hazelnut coffee—and the occasional poppyseed muffin, despite his enjoyment of yelling about his dislike for bread.

“Dolce! Pico’s here!”

Ah. Right. Speaking of patterns, Dolce made her way past the ovens and Dylas, who was currently in the process of decorating whatever baked goods were needed, and up to the front where her sister was waiting at the counter.

“Heya, Dolly!” she cheered, smiling wide. For a sophomore in highschool, she was short, but she insisted that she just hadn’t hit her growth spurt yet. Dolce often joked that her brown hair was longer than she was, which would always make her pout.

They were very different, not only in height, but in personality. Pico was far more enthusiastic and loud compared to Dolce’s tendency to be calm and keep to herself. One of very few things they did have in common, though, was their love for sweets, which was a nice advantage to working at a bakery.

Dolce walked to the counter. “Hey. How was school?”

“It was all right, but it’s cold! And I’m here! So you know what that means!”

“I am not giving you extra marshmallows in your cocoa. Nancy will kill me.”

“Oh, come on!” Pico pleaded. “Mom doesn’t need to know!”

Another difference between the two was that Pico had grown accustomed to calling Nancy her mom, while Dolce was far from it. They had both been adopted by her and her husband, Jones, when they were young. Dolce had been eight, and Pico had been four. She was raised to be very polite, so she had always called them Ms. Nancy and Dr. Jones. It took her a few years to even drop those formalities.

“You can come around the back, Pico!” Meg said, making Pico’s eyes sparkle. “We got that extra table in the break room you can work at.”

“Thanks, Meg!” she said excitedly, walking around the counter. She stepped to the back rooms, giving a quick greeting to Dylas, and Dolce heard the break room door of the Sunbeam open and close.

“Sweet kid,” the elf smiled, before bringing two cups to the pick-up counter—Dolce had recognized the order as Lest and Frey’s, two very strange twins that lived a ways out of town on a farm. Frey always changed her order depending on the day, like today’s—Thursday’s—was a hibiscus fruit tea. Her brother, Lest, always got the same thing, which was a caramel latte.

The day continued as usual, new and old faces coming in, and soon Dolce had reached her break. She sighed as she walked to the back room, ready to take a breather.

“Heya, Dolce.”

She turned to the back exit where another one of her co-workers, a history major named Leon, stepped in. He worked later shifts due to his classes primarily spanning from early morning to around 4:00.

“Right on time. I’m about to go on break.”

“Not even a hello?” Leon asked, acting hurt. “Cold.”

“As I said, I’m on break. Greetings are, too.”

“I can never get a rise out of you, can I?”

Dolce shook her head. “No.” She heard him laugh as she entered the break room, scanning the small place for the table her sister was sitting. She wasn’t there, so Dolce took a few more steps in and looked to where the mini-fridge was.

There she was, kneeling there looking for drinks and such. Pico was fiddling with her baseball cap, which did not match her outfit at all, as she searched.

“You should ask permission before going through employees’ stuff,” she said flatly, making Pico jump.

“DOLLY! You scared me!” she whined, standing up.

“Just saying.” She pulled out an iced tea from the fridge, then moved to sit at the table. “How’s homework coming?”

“Geometry sucks!” her sister complained, sitting as well after taking one of Dolce’s teas. “Triangles and circles can stop existing, for all I care!”

“If circles stopped existing, our eyes would be weird.”

“Please don’t start with the body part stuff! I hear it enough from mom and dad.”

Dolce chuckled at that, pulling a book out from her bag. She only really read on breaks since she wasn’t in class—she had graduated highschool last year and was yet to enroll in a college. Of course, Selphia University was promising, but Nancy and Jones were supportive of her taking a gap year to breathe.

The two sisters sat there for a while and, when Pico didn’t want to work on a problem, she either tapped her pencil or got up to walk in circles. Dolce looked up from her book at around the fifth time Pico got up to do this.

“Do you need help?” she asked, settling her bookmark into the crease of the pages. Dolce closed it when Pico just nodded silently.

“This theorem stuff is hard!” Pico said as she sat back down. “I don’t even know what a ‘hypotenuse’ is!”

“It’s the longest leg of a triangle.”

“See! Hard!” She pouted, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. Dolce put a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, Pico. You’re smart, but you don’t have to be in every subject. If you’re struggling, here, that’s okay. That just means you need to take longer to understand.” She attempted to console her, although she wasn’t the best at it. She was much better at pushing people away and keeping to herself.

Pico sniffled. “Like you?”

She tensed before nodding. “Yeah. Like me.”

Another difference between them was that Pico would understand a lot faster than Dolce ever could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to SpinachArtichokeDitz for beta reading! I greatly appreciate them, and you should check out their stuff!

The weeks running into fall were always busy at The Sunbeam, as they finally brought back what Dolce called “the pumpkin promenade.” They always brought back pumpkin flavoring, meaning that those who were addicted to the fall spice of life would come in and order daily.

The array of pumpkin goods ranged from muffins, to pie, to coffee, which meant Dolce and Dylas were busy baking in the back hourly.

“I am not jealous of you two at all,” Meg had said on the first day they were offering the pumpkin goodies. “The counter’s always rough but at least I’m not having to bake and catch up…”

Dolce sighed. “It’s always the reason my sweaters are covered in flour, but worse.”

“At least it isn’t coffee!” the elf had laughed before heading back up to the front.

“That’s one positive, at least,” Dylas commented before going back to shaping cookie dough.

Despite the rush of customers, Dolce enjoyed the fall. It wasn’t horrifically cold, but it was that point of chilly that was perfect for warmer meals. The colors of the leaves gradually changing were always serene to her.

And of course, the season of the best holiday—not opinion, fact—Halloween. Dolce didn’t openly prank anyone like Leon, but she was fond of the scarier aspects of the 31st. It was the day where Dolce could dress up like a witch or a marionette, or whatever she felt like. She could curl up and watch horror movies after dressing up at work, staying up until 3:00 AM and laughing at the stupid decisions made by the final girl.

The season of cinnamon and pumpkin was the best.

Speaking of cinnamon, Dolce had noticed that the girl who always ordered apple pie hadn’t come in for a while. The past Tuesday and Thursday had gone by without her, leaving Dolce feeling concerned.

She had caught a moment of respite that next Tuesday, allowing her to go to the front counter. She stepped over to Meg, who was working on the typical tea for Illuminata, a self proclaimed detective who really enjoyed the lavender-chamomile blend offered at the Sunbeam.

“Has that girl come in today?” Dolce asked, arms crossed. Meg raised a brow at her.

“Dolce, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“She orders apple pie and green tea every Tuesday and Thursday. She wasn’t here last week.”

Meg thought for a moment. “Do you mean Clorica?”

Was that her name? “If she has purple hair, then yes.”

“Oh! I think she’s been busy with her new job at some bookstore? Clori has a lot of classes to juggle so she’s probably managing that.” Meg grinned. “Why do you ask?”

The dwarf shrugged. “I just noticed her change in schedule, is all. Considering she kept that routine up so well, too.”

“Well, it’s nothing personal!” She shook her head. She walked over to the pick-up counter. “Life happens.”

Dolce huffed as Meg continued with working, brewing tea, coffee, and managing the orders. She tapped the elf’s shoulder. “Do you need help?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Meg handed her a slip of paper. “If you could just take care of a few coffees, that would be great.”

“Got it.”

“Oh! There’s also a few tables that I haven’t gotten to cleaning yet!”

Dolce grabbed the cleaning supplies from the counter. “I can handle that first.”

“Thank you, Dolce!” she said as Dolce made her way from behind the counter. The dwarf moved to a table that wasn’t too messy—a few crumbs that she wiped up quickly. The next table, however, had a discarded straw and half of a coffee. Dolce sighed.

“Why can’t people pick up after themselves…,” she grumbled as she picked up the trash and coffee. She turned to go to the trash can, but collided with someone, spilling coffee all over the two of them.

Shit.

“Oh, dear…,” a sleepy voice said. Dolce looked up, seeing the familiar curls of purple. The girl blinked down at the mess as the dwarf stared.

She looked somewhat dreamy, be it from the autumn lighting coming in or her sleepy demeanor. She was wearing a purple top,which was now stained with coffee, and a black skirt with a flower pattern. Her half-lidded orange eyes darted up to meet hers.

“Oh.” Dolce snapped back to reality, coughing. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am.”

She giggled. “Don’t be. I zoned out and wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, I… I wasn’t paying attention, either...,” she gulped. She had no idea why she felt flustered—maybe because she had spilled coffee all over the both of them, or maybe because the girl was rather pretty.

Wait, what?

“I should probably clean up… oh, darn,” Clorica muttered. “I don’t have my coat…”

Dolce coughed. “I have an extra sweater with me, if you’d like to borrow it?”

The sleepy girl smiled. “You don’t have to do that—“

“Oh god, Clori!” Meg exclaimed, walking over to them. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry, Meg.”

“I’m fine. too,” Dolce said, a small grin on her face. Meg sighed.

“Come to the back, you two. I’ll clean this while you two… uh… clean up.” she began to lead the way to the back, motioning for them—mostly Clorica—to follow. As they stepped into the back room, meeting a confused Dylas and the fresh arrival of Leon, Meg left them to their devices.

“My extra sweater is in the break room. I’ll go get it for you,” she said as she walked over. Clorica followed, stepping in as Dolce held the door open for her.

“Again, thank you. You really don’t have to.”

“No, really. I insist.” Dolce pulled the sweater from her bag and handed it to her. She fiddled with the cloth. “It isn’t purple, but it’s better you use it.”

She smiled. “Thank you. Is there a place I can change?”

“The next door to the left. Employee bathroom.”

Clorica nodded. “Thanks again!” she said as she walked out.

Dolce was left standing there, confused at the whole situation. She quickly untied her apron and removed her sweater, making sure her t-shirt underneath wasn’t stained. It was, but only slightly, so Dolce simply threw on her flannel to cover up. She had just finished buttoning up when the door opened.

“You know you have to tell me what happened,” Leon said, leaning over the table.

“I bumped into her and spilled a coffee. Nothing more,” she said flatly.

“Riiiight. And you just give a stranger your sweater?” he said, raising a brow. Dolce glared at him and he laughed. “All right, all right! Fine! You do barely know her, though.”

“She’s a friend of Margaret’s. There’s no reason for me not to trust her.” She walked past him towards the door.

“Sure, but—“ He paused. “Wait. Did my teasing just get to you?”

“What?”

“You seemed annoyed. You usually don’t even give me that!”

Dolce huffed, walking out. “Nope. Not doing this.”

“It did!” was the last thing she heard before closing the door. She made her way back to baking, getting lost in her thoughts.

Clorica was a simple girl whom she barely knew. Sure, she was cute, but that was besides the point. She was merely another customer—another person in Selphia—whether or not she came in on a usual schedule.

Why was she on her mind so much?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I’m excited to continue posting!


End file.
